


Scars

by holysmoaksoliver



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2371994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holysmoaksoliver/pseuds/holysmoaksoliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity shows Oliver her scars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This is super short, but I couldn't resist writing this scene. Written based on an anonymous tumblr prompt of Oliver kissing Felicity's scar.

"Did I show you the one on my knee?" Felicity asked, a hint of a giggle in her voice. She was seated cross-legged on her couch with her back against the armrest so she was facing Oliver.

“You did,” he answered, taking her wine glass from her and setting it on the coffee table. “Fourth grade bike riding accident,” he recalled.

Felicity nodded a bit too enthusiastically. She had nearly finished off her third glass of wine and her head was swimming just a tad and her stomach and cheeks were warm. “I’ve got this one,” she said, pulling the neck of her shirt to the side, the fabric slipping off her shoulder. “My first bullet.”

“First and last,” Oliver corrected, his fingers tracing the skin marred on an otherwise blemishless ivory palette. Felicity’s eyes slipped closed at his touch, her head tilting back until she was resting against the sofa.

“You said you always wanted one,” Oliver said, clearing his throat. “So how do you feel?”

“Initiated,” Felicity responded, opening her eyes and sitting up again. She leaned forward, reaching for Oliver’s hand which had left her shoulder in search of his wine glass. Once he’d emptied it, he allowed her to take his hand and guide it back to the scar. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow and he shifted his weight, leaning forward until his lips found the tender patch of silver filigreed flesh.

“I also feel like I know you a little better for it,” she said quietly, the timbre of her voice reverberating through where his lips still traced the scar. “Each one of your scars is a memory of something awful that happened to you.” She paused, and then added, “But it’s also a reminder. That you’re still here. That you’re still alive. That you still feel.”

His hands traveled up her back, cradling her neck as his lips trailed tenderly upwards, finding their home against hers. He kissed her until the words made sense. Until he felt like he was still there, still alive, still feeling. And then, just to make absolutely sure, he kissed her some more.


End file.
